Finn felt incapable of putting two thoughts together. “You mean to court Miss Swift?” He’d thought Elliot was captivated by Hortense Fitzgerald.
“She has quite captured my heart. I knew it the first day.”
“That was Tuesday!” Finn pushed aside the thought that he’d known Camellia for precisely the same length of time that Elliot had, or that he’d been drawn to her the moment he saw her.
“I shall always remember it. She’ll understand, of course. My eagerness, that is. I know she will. Such a lovely heart as hers. You said she turned down proposals before. But she won’t refuse me!”
“But…you expressed a regard for Hortense Fitzgerald.”
“Oh, she’s a sweet young lady, to be sure. But Miss Swift is my soulmate.”
Elliot’s eyes were bright, his smile just a trifle off. Finn looked more closely at him, wondering what was different. “Elliot, are you set on this?”
“Why do you ask?” Elliot frowned at him, his eyes narrowing.
“As a friend, I just thought…you should be cautious. She may have other admirers, or other expectations.”
“I can handle all of that. And of course, you mustn’t speak to her again.”
“Excuse me?” Now Finn felt a chill, as if he’d stepped in icy water.
“Not that I don’t appreciate your efforts on my behalf,” Elliot went on, with a pleasant smile. “But I do still remember what happened up at Oxford. It wouldn’t be the thing for another young lady I admire to go running off to you. I’m aware that you have an effect on less thoughtful women.”
“You can’t expect me to ignore a member of the house party.”
“Be polite, of course. But if I see anything more than politeness on your part, I’ll shoot you.”
Finn assumed he’d heard wrong. “What?”
Elliot started walking for the door. “I will shoot you. I’ve been practicing my shooting.” His happy smile in no way matched his statement, which worried Finn all the more. “Just be advised, friend.”
He strolled out of the room, whistling. Finn stared after him. He finally recognized Elliot’s expression only after he vanished into the hallway. He had seen it before, down on the Peninsula. It was madness.
Chapter 14
Camellia slept restlessly, though she didn’t remember any specifics of her dreams. Odd music seemed to run through her head upon waking, like a half-remembered carol. She thought of Finn then, and wondered what he was doing. Perhaps still asleep. She flushed at the idea of him asleep, picturing it in her mind, and then wondered what Mrs Bloomfield would think of her. She’d be scandalized.
But soon Camellia was smiling again. Finn’s kiss was still affecting her, even after sleep ought to have dulled the memory. She thought of her brand-new gown packed for this visit. It was lush forest green velvet. Tonight would be the first night she ever wore it, and she hoped Finn would be impressed.
The castle was overrun with servants and local help, all preparing for that evening’s party. Hothouse flowers, carefully wrapped, were brought in on carts. Maids gathered armloads of blossoms and carried them to the large ballroom in the new wing, with glittering windows and a grand staircase, a space designed to host hundreds of people. Camellia heard Hortense chattering with the housekeeper over final food preparations and whether there would be enough wine and ale.
When she saw her, Hortense waved frantically. “Camellia! You must help me. I’ve a royal blue satin dress and a pink velvet one too! I’m utterly divided. Come with me and pick one out.”
Camellia didn’t even have to take a step toward Hortense’s wardrobe. “Royal blue, of course. You’re the queen of the castle.”
“Oh, you’re so clever! I’d have dithered for days.” Hortense waved again as an army of housemaids gathered for instructions, allowing Lia to walk on.
At breakfast, Camellia overheard part of an idle conversation between two gentlemen. “I’ve heard that spirits of those gone before can return on midnight of the longest night of the year,” one said. “And tonight is the solstice.”
“Careful, old man,” his friend said, “or you’ll be called a heathen too!”
“Ah, I’ll have company. Everyone in the area is coming to the ball tonight. It’s the Fitzgerald tradition! Been doing it for centuries.”
Centuries! Camellia instantly knew what she and Finn had to do that night. They must go to the great hall in the old wing that evening at midnight and watch for ghosts. If the ball was so old a tradition, what better place for the spirits to reappear?
It didn’t take long to find Finn, who was reading a newspaper in an upholstered chair facing the window.
“Good morning, Fi—I mean, Mr Ryder. I have a splendid idea! Listen,” she began to explain her plan.
